The Accepted (Rewritten)
by Primus1243
Summary: ?


**A/N: A story I always wanted to do. Let's just say the first time I ever wrote…it sucked like hell. Looking back, I have changed over the years and now I want to try my hand at writing this. I just hope I can actually finish this up and not be a mess. So, let's start off with possibly the most confusing beginning. Just hold on for it.**

* * *

A man hums a cheery tune, possibly made by kids, while carrying a large black case over his shoulder. A puddle splashes as he steps into murky rainwater and piss from the local homeless people living around while draining into a manhole cover. In fact, two in such rags were watching him as a man like him wasn't the type to walk these alleyways. Mostly, it would be such simple clothing or those of suits who were looking for a quick shortcut. This man looked like a man on a mission as he kept whistling the same tune and not heeding any mess on his boots. Though the homeless men sitting on the side of the alley couldn't tell as he wore a large black cloak that went down all the way to his feet, wetting the edges as it dragged slightly.

The man stops humming and looks to a large building in front of him as construction equipment and containers laid outside. Open boxes, old and broken wood, cement blocks littered the area and containers as he walks up to a locked door and looks to the school level dial lock. The man shakes his head and grabs the lock before ripping it off, lock and hinge all, before throwing it to the side of him and into the trash container nearby. Stepping into the building, he can hear the echoey chattering happening outside from the opposite end of the building and quickly steps into his pace. Looking around, he quickly spots the stone stairs with cheap construction wooden rails and starts to jog up the stairs.

The chattering starts to become louder as the rooms became less and less finished. More open to the world before stopping on a floor and sees the open only open boxes and goes back down a floor. He quickly steps up to the covered windows where only some were wood and others had glass already placed into it as the room seem to be half finished. The man smiles as he rushes to a glass window and looks outside. Nodding to himself, he looks around and spots a table with tools, boxes of supplies and some blueprints. Going to it, he wipes everything off with an arm and pulls it to the window. Going to the opposite end of the table, he aims the table as if ready to throw it. The man smiles as he drops the case.

He opens the case and starts to fiddle around inside it before taking away the foam cover and reveals gun parts. The chattering increase as something happens outside and rushes to grab the parts, starting with the base and barrel, putting them together and lock them in place. All the while, only one large bullet lies to the side in a side pocket before it is pulled out and held. The man sets the rifle onto the table and gets onto it, pulling his hood down slightly to see better as the light shows his dark eyes, showing splotches of red, while staring into the scope of the rifle as he sets the bullet beside him, ready to insert it into the rifle as it remains unloaded.

Looking through the scope, he can see large crowds of people below, all chattering about and talking amongst themselves but looking at something ahead of them. He aims the scope around, trying to find the spot and angle he needs as flags whip around in the wind, telling him an idea of how much the wrong angle he needs. Finally, he comes to duel hard steel gate fencing with people walking the sidewalk and the crowd watching the white building beyond it.

The man smirks as he picks up the bullet and slides it into the open barrel and slides the receiver forward, locking it into place. The large clear white rifle with a muzzle break at the end turns slightly as it still stays inside the room. A line of flags flaps into view, giving a name to the event. The Easter Egg Hunt. Poor children. They are going to witness their first gunshot and shock to their lives. The man muses to himself as he aims at the window of the white building. He then aims to the side to handle the wind blowing his shot. Taking a quick look back as he now has an angle to work with, he sees the target sitting behind a desk while working on something, his back to his shot, obscured by windows and blinds. That's alright. Just need one.

The man goes back to his angle as he watches a flag in his view to the side and squeezes the trigger slightly…

 _ **BANG**_

The man quickly gets off the table as the window breaks from his shot and shatters to the floor and the road below as he packs up his rifle in the case. An earpiece then goes off in his ear. "Shots fired at the White House! Code Black! Where did that come from?! Snipers, confirm!" a voice orders as the man rushes out of the room and down the steps. "Trajectory locked! Construction building, fifth floor. Shattered window," the man hears as another man comes online and tracked his location as he is able to get onto the ground floor. "Satellite locked onto the building," the man hears but he pays no mind as he rushes out the door he used and bum rushes with his shoulder and out into the alley. "We got a possible target running from the building. Carrying a big case with him."

The man smirks as he goes to the manhole cover nearby as the homeless men nearby cower together and watch him with fear, knowing that he is the one who made the loud bang. The man smirks to them under his hood and flashes a grin as he pulls the manhole cover off and throws it to the side. As soon as he does, he throws the case down, splashing into the murky water down below and prepares to go down the ladder while hearing engine noises growing louder before armored vehicles and vans drive around the alley exits, turning and driving towards him. The man smirks as he looks at them before giving a two finger salute and drops into the hole.

"Target fled into the sewer!" a man relays as the vehicles drive quickly up to the manhole and get out, weapons drawn in armor. "We are going down the manhole," someone says as the men and women start to peek into the sewer and head down the ladder. Looking around, they can see it is mostly a long line of a single line and then a gate creeks. Most of those already down turn their weapons at the creek and find a rusted gate before rushing over to it. "Target is going to the maintenance hall. Engaging," a man relays as they all step through the crap water and up onto the side before peeking their weapons around the corner and sees a stone hall with pipes running through it and covered in some muck. They all try to head down the hall, the gate creaking behind them as they head down the hall, their flashlights lighting the way while more and more pipes line the walls. It wasn't until the front one turns a corner and bumps into a wall. "What?" the man asks confused and looks around to see the hall has ended into a dead end before looking back and sees everyone else waiting in the hall, waiting for him to move as he feels around the wall. "Sir…the hall ended into a dead end. There is no other way."

"Where the hell did he go?" the commanding voice asks as everyone starts to look around for another way.

* * *

The man sighs in relief as he steps up to the line of seats and couches in front of a large TV. He sets the case onto a showcase lit up by lights in a carved crevice on the surface. He then reaches down and takes out a bullet box, reaching in and takes out another bullet of the same caliber and opens the case. Setting the bullet into the slot, he closes the case and moves to the couch and sits down as the TV runs the many news channels.

"You stink," a female voice says beside him as his cloak drips the sewer water onto the white marble floor.

The man chuckles. "I just went through shit."

"Obviously," the female says getting up and walks past him, grabbing the case handle and recoils a bit. "Seriously? You threw this down into the shit instead of carrying it?"

"Can you blame me? I was being chased," the man tries to defend himself as he takes the cloak off and holds it off to the side, letting another female figure walk by and grab it, taking it away to possibly be cleaned.

The first female scoffs and pulls the case off the showcase, leaving a muck trail as she walks over to the large double doors and opens it to a white nothing before stepping through and the door closes on its own behind her.

The man smirks to himself as he kept watching the news on the attack he gave. "Come on. Show me more fear. Give me…oh. Two thousand one levels of fear," he says chuckling to himself as he felt a few tugs on his mind. "Shut up," he says snapping his fingers and makes the tugging go away. "Idiot watcher."


End file.
